Inspiration Comes in Shiny Foil Wrappers
by Coriandergirl
Summary: If you have ever eaten a Dove chocolate, you have probably noticed that there are little inspirational messages printed on the inside of the wrappers. I have been collecting them forever and considering stories to put to them. Here are my favorites...
1. Buy Yourself Flowers!

"Buy Yourself Flowers!"

Hogsmeade was, by all accounts, a small village. There were only about three thousand or so people who actually lived there. On any given day, if one were to spend every sunlit minute going about the township, they would only come across a mere handful of its inhabitants. What visitors never realized was that most of the other people they interacted with in the village, even many of the shopkeepers, were hired employees, drawn to the tourist trade in this last purely wizarding community. In those days, there were only a couple of us left that not only owned but ran our own shops. There was old Eunice Weathergate, with her quiet trade in the magic-forged metal jewelry, Lorraine Treelaugh, who made her wage off of wizard-clock repairs (the Weasley's were still her number one customers), Beatrice Bottsworth, who didn't really even need to work what with all the proceeds she made off her candy business, but still enjoyed seeing to the occasional customer who sought the yarns and thread she sold, and Mr. Greence, though none of us ever really figured out just what, exactly, he was supposed to be selling. And then, there was myself. Gertrude Howardson. I own the flower shop off main street, but at the south end, closest to the Shack and the Surrounding Forrest. Due to my store's location, I didn't (and still don't, really) get many customers. Every once in a while, a romantically-minded young man might wander in and purchase a bouquet of roses, daisies, lilies, or, in one unforgettable instance, corn, for a sweetheart, but business was generally pretty slow. To be totally honest, the only reason I was ever able to rationalize staying in business in those days was because of the orders I would receive every month from the school, often for the Herbology classes, but mainly for Potions' ingredients. On the first Wednesday of every month, I would receive an order slip from Professor Snape, with minute instructions as to how and where he wanted his ingredients, and by the following Friday, I would load up the various items in Geraldo Higgins' cart and deliver them to the house elves at the gate. For all that the Potions Master and I had been carrying out our business for over ten years by then, the closest contact I ever had to him was the signature on his checks. I still had no idea what he looked like.

That particular day will always live on in my heart. It was late April, and the last of the snow had already melted the week before. The trees all had leaf buds, the grass was regaining its green color at last, and already there songbirds in the trees once more. I remember stepping outside my back door that morning, and looking out at the forest beyond. The ground was still moist with dew, and the air had that fresh sweetness to it, like a clear waterfall transmuted into smell. Closing my eyes, listening to the tentative first chirps of the returned birds, I knew something good had to happen that day.

Ten hours later, I no longer believed that anything was going to go right. There had been a Hogwarts visit, and several of the ruffians had decided that it would be a good idea to Transfigure each other into various animals, only to discover they had no clue how to return their young friends back to humanity. Of course, in their beastly forms, the former children had even less caring for any rules of propriety, and so several of the main street shops (including, I'll have you know, my own) were plagued by a herd of uncontrollable monkeys, geese, donkeys, and a particularly vindictive badger. Needless to say, by the time the end of their visit drew near, it was with great anticipation that I looked to close up. Just as I had begun the process of bringing the display tables inside and drawing the shutters, I was startled to find a customer standing on my welcome mat. At first glance, he appeared the sort of man to instantly put anyone with sense on the offensive. Dressed all in black, looming high above average height, he exuded an aura of one who was to be respected, obeyed, and feared. However, I did not worry for long. When I looked past his appearances to his actual face, I saw what most would have missed if they instantly withdrew in fright. His eyes, while, admittedly, an unusually dark hue, expressed not haughty disdain, nor dangerous intent, or even overwhelming annoyance. The expression was such an odd sight to see in such a powerful face. There was uncertainty, and loneliness, and, most surprising of all, fear of me, if such a thing could be possible!

Well, after seeing all that, I certainly couldn't just dismiss him with a simple, "Sorry, we're closing up for the night," now could I? No, I didn't think so, either. After a moment's contemplative pause, I asked him how I could help, and he replied simply,

"I would like some Forget-Me-Nots, if you have any."

Well! How did he know? I had just received a new order of them, the first of the season that very morning! I informed him as much, to which he merely replied,

"That's nice."

Not so much of a pleasure talker, this one, but I was just dying to know who they were for. Usually the only folks who specifically asked for that flower by name were brides who had heard something of the old legends or hopeful beaus who purchased the small posies because their grandma's had instructed them so. Never had I ever seen a person quite like this, who gathered together enough of the sturdy little stems to form a fat bunch and tied it with a simple twist of twine. His handling of the blossoms themselves was altogether thrilling; he did not hold them as if considering the reaction of an intended recipient, nor with the offhand acceptance of a necessary component of an exasperating ritual, but with the tenderness of one who looked at the petals and leaves and saw them for what they were, and felt his expectations perfectly fulfilled. As I rang up his purchase, I couldn't help asking him what he wanted them for, wondering aloud if his mother would like them. (Yes, of course I was fishing for answers, what more would you expect of a nosy old woman with too much free time on her hands?) However, he merely smiled, ever so slightly sadly, as if to apologize for his lack of interesting reply.

"They are no one but myself. I saw the sky today, and knew I could not go back to the castle without some symbol of the beauty of the day with me. The color so perfectly matches the hue of the sky at dawn, don't you think?"

So saying, he signed the receipt, and walked sedately out of my shop, leaving in his wake silence. As I watched this stranger disappear beyond my windows, I realized why I suddenly felt so light. Here, at last, was a totally unselfish appreciation for the beauty that was in all life, whether animal or plant. He had his memento of the sky at dawn, but I had gained something far more precious. I was reminded of why it was I ever decided to run a flower shop at all. It had never been for the income, or even the knowledge that romance was still alive. No, it was for the self-gratitude of being with the beautiful creations of nature, and for the sharing of these gifts with others. Fervently, I wished I could have caught my voice in time to have thanked the stately gentleman who had reopened my eyes with his simple reverence. But, it was not to be so.

As I mentally shook myself to regain my senses, I absently picked up the receipt I had so quickly forgotten. There, signed neatly in a hand I had seen so many times, was the name Severus Snape.

Since that day, I have always made sure to include a free bundle of Forget-Me-Nots in my April shipment to the castle, with a small note reading, 'Silently, one by one/ in the infinite meadows of heaven,/blossomed the lovely stars,/the forget-me-nots of the angels.'

_A/N: in case you were wondering, the quote is from Longfellow's Evangeline, which can be read in full here:_ h t t p : // etext . lib . virginia . edu / etcbin / toccer - new2? id = LonEvan . sgm & images = images / modeng & data = / texts / english / modeng / parsed & tag = public & part = all_ (just remove all the spaces)_


	2. Share a Chocolate Moment With a Friend

"Share a chocolate moment with a friend."

Severus didn't hate him. Not really. He knew that the boy he once was, the one ruled by petty jealousy and irrational, unacknowledged fear had long since been run its course, that the man he was now had the maturity and wisdom to accept others' differences for what they were. He hoped Lupin could feel the same way. Lord only knew it had been long enough since either of them had just had a person to talk to. Despite his apparent friendliness, Albus always exuded a feeling of disdain when he spoke to Severus, like a father listening to the three-year-old. He recognized him as a person, but disregarded the feelings and needs that went with that role. After each conversation with the Headmaster, Severus felt as though he had been insulted to his face and hadn't quite understood. No, Albus was no confidant.

Then again, there were plenty of other adults on the campus, though a good ninety percent of them drove Severus absolutely barmy whenever he was forced to endure more than a few scant minutes in their prescence. Especially that Trelawny twit. He still shuddered whenever he remembered his first Valentines Day on staff at Hogwarts. The other teachers had thought it would be fun to snatch his wand and lock him in a small room with the very inebriated Divination professor. After only ten minutes of barely suppressed rage at the woman's attempts to unbutton his shirt, Severus had jumped out of the window, preferring any pain he might incur in the landing to the horrors within the room. Luckily, he was on the first floor, and his impetuous jump did him minimal damage. The ensuing revenge he enacted on the pranksters was satisfyingly clever, but did little to strengthen any bonds between him and his fellows.

Convincing himself that he liked to be alone anyhow, Severus had drawn more tightly to himself in the following years, burying any remaining loneliness with obligations and work. Where another man might have drunk or used some other substance to escape their pain, Severus turned ever more forcefully into his work. However, this, like any shield, can only hold up to so much strain. The incessant torment of dealing with disrespectful children and the boredoms of school were no match, but the Dementors were a wholly different matter. The dreary beasts stripped away his defenses, leaving his secret feebleness exposed in the sterile desolation of his mind.

Suffice it to say they put Severus on edge.

So it was no surprise, really, that he found himself here today. While it had never been a problem he couldn't handle before, the extent to which Severus pushed himself, coupled with the late nights prowling on the lookout for curfew breakers when combined with the ever-present chill of the Dementors had proved too much for even his tolerance. Thus, he was seated in the hospital wing, scowling fiercely at one and all who dared to glance in his direction long enough for him to notice. Thankfully, it was a Saturday afternoon, and as such, the population within the infirmary was at a minimum. Only those truly affected were present; the fakers off enjoying what little sunlight there might be.

Aside from Poppy, no one had dared approach the professor, a situation he found himself almost regretting, as he observed the well-wishers chatting quietly with a bed-ridden friend at the end of the ward. However, his wistfulness only lasted mere seconds, as someone dropped into the seat beside him with a sigh to match Severus' own weariness.

"Hello, Severus." Remus Lupin's voice was all that Severus' was not. Quiet where his was loud, mellow where his was surly, welcoming where he would push away. On any other day, Severus would have answered the amiable greeting with a baleful glare and left the room, but today was not any other day, and so he did not.

"Lupin." His acknowledgement, though curt, lacked its usual bite. Rather than a snarl, it was merely a recognition of the person beside him.

The next few minutes passed slowly, but not painfully. Neither man knew what to say to the other, and did not want to break the hesitant companionship of the moment. Rather than look at each other, they both directed their attention offhandedly to the small group around the bed.

"…said, 'Don't even think about it, Gerry! I'm not stupid, and you can't make me!' of course, what she didn't know was that I had already switched them when she wasn't looking."

"You didn't! Blimey, what did she do when she found out?"

"Haha, you should've seen her face! She was all white, and her eyes were as big as Trelawny's! I swear, I have never seen someone more surprised!"

"Oh, no! You do know she's going to kill you for that later, don't you?"

"Yeah, but it was totally worth it. The look on her face…"

Rolling his eyes in disgust, Severus turned his gaze away from the now giggling third years to see Pomona bustling out of her office toward him, carrying her infamous chocolate brick, with an exceptionally decisive gleam in her eye. Without pause, she plunked her load down on the small table between their chairs, proceeding to break off two sizable chunks, and thrust one into each of the now wary professors' hands.

"Now then, I expect you to sit here and eat the whole lot, you hear me? That means you don't leave until that piece is gone. I mean it, Severus! The students might have convinced you you're a god, but I know you're not. I am determined that you will not catch some illness or other just because of your own butt-headedness! Now eat up, or I might have to do something drastic, like confine you to a bed! The same goes for you, Remus. No excuses!" With that, the matron hefted up her slab one more, and proceeded down the rest of the ward, clucking and carrying on at her various patients, a mother hen armed with chocolate and sheer determination.

Taken aback by the sudden assault, Severus sat frozen in his chair, staring off into space and gripping by reflex the napkin that had been shoved into his hands. His reverie was broken, however, by the sound of muffled chuckling from his right. Turning his head ever so slowly, he fixed his gaze on the culprit. Lupin's smile spread from his appreciative grin to his shining eyes with an easy confidence. A he noticed his companion's gaze, the werewolf merely raised his eyebrows higher, and held up his own chocolate, as if in salute.

After a fashion, Severus followed suit, smirking slightly at the absurdity of the occasion. At once, the corner grew significantly warmer, as each man bit into his chocolate and settled into their chairs more comfortably.

"I see I'm not the only one who likes to slip out of her care when she's not looking. Tell me, does she always threaten you with bed-rest?" Lupin's eyes shone merrily as he spoke, focusing on Severus' face with a simple cheerfulness that invited him to answer with equable animation.

"No. Usually she just backs me into a corner and refuses to look away until I have swallowed whatever concoction she's given me. Because, obviously, I am just looking for a chance to spit it out the moment she turns away. I do believe she thinks every person that walks beneath her gaze is deathly ill and possessing of the maturity of a four-year-old." His exceptionally dry tone belied the humor within his words, but Remus still saw through them, grinning even wider. In an effort to conceal his own smile, and failing miserably, Severus bit into his chocolate rather more strongly than he had meant, breaking off a piece with a loud crack. With that, neither man could contain their hilarity. Throwing back their heads and roaring with laughter that had perhaps just a touch of hysteria, Severus and Remus ignored the sudden shocked glances toward where they sat and just let go of themselves; gave over to the release of the moment.

_Perhaps,_ Severus mused to himself as he watched the other man's shoulders shaking, _Perhaps this isn't just a freak occurrence. Perhaps we have both changed enough to let this happen. Perhaps I won't have to be so lonely anymore. Perhaps._

Call it what you will: a Devine accident; a spontaneous dual human malfunctioning; the beginning of something more, in that moment, the world shifted on its axis. Who knew if it would last, if it _could_ last, but for a moment at least, Severus was happy.

_A/N: I don't quite know where this one came from. I just started writing about Severus, with the intention of eventually having him eating chocolate with Remus, and this came out. If you want to interpret it that way, it could almost be a SS/RL fluff piece. I dunno. Make of it what you will. Eventually, I will have another one up. All characters belong to JKR, all Dove messages are thanks to Dove Chocolate. (though several of them are common stand-bys...) Hope you like!_


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